The First Year
by gothamgirl28
Summary: AU from 3x05. Follow Tom and Sybil Branson throughout the first year of their daughter's life.
1. Chapter 1

_This is dedicated to the Yankee Countess and Scarletcourt._

_I did a lot of research for sections of this chapter, particularly on caesarian sections and anesthesia in the 1920s. I hope I accurately depicted them. Please let me know if anything is wrong or inconsistent. I always welcome constructive criticisim._

_I do not own the characters on Downton Abbey. If I did, most of Series 3 would not have happened._

* * *

**Tuesday, 20 July 1920**

20 July 1920 dawned in a haze of heat and humidity. Sybil Branson was nine months pregnant, and more than ready to give birth. Tom Branson woke on that Tuesday morning with a sense of unease. He had no clue why, but he had this sense that something wasn't right. He shrugged it off as nerves. Sybil would be having the baby at any moment and he would be a father. _Tom Branson a da!_ When he left Ireland and arrived in Yorkshire seven years ago, his plans for his future did not include a wife and children. But then he met Sybil, and though it took him nearly a year to realize it, it was when he met her that his heart truly came to life. Thinking back on the first six years – their fast friendship, the political discussions, the Count, York and those heartbreaking moments in the archway, his wartime frustrations, their arguments over 'us' – all of it had been worth it from the moment Sybil said she would marry him. The last eighteen months was worth it all.

Tom rolled over to look at his wife. Sybil looked so peaceful as she slept, which was not how she felt when she was awake. The last few days, she'd been complaining about her ankles being swollen and how hard it was to get in a comfortable position, as she constantly felt the baby's hands and feet hitting her ribs. He wished he could help ease her discomfort, but she always said his being there was enough. Tom grabbed his pocket watch from the nightstand and looked at the time. He knew he needed to get up and go down to breakfast. He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek and got out of bed to start the day.

The doctor Lord Grantham hired to deliver the baby, Sir Philip Tapsell, arrived at Downton around a quarter after one that afternoon. He examined Sybil and proclaimed that she and the baby were both fine and that everything was proceeding normally. Tom tried to relax at his words but he still had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

An hour after Sir Philip's examination, Isobel Crawley arrived at Downton. She wanted to visit with Sybil and see how she was doing, remembering what it was like to be nine months pregnant.

"As much as I loved it when I was expecting, by the ninth month, I just wanted Matthew out so I could feel normal again," she said to Sybil and Tom.

Sybil smiled at her cousin. "That's how I feel right now. My ankles are swollen, my head aches and with the baby pushing on my diaphragm, I'm having difficulty breathing. I also really want to meet this little one so much that I can't wait for labour to begin."

Tom grabbed her hand. "You say that now, but you won't think that when you actually are in labour."

It was as he was looking up that Tom noticed Isobel's face was full of concern. He was about to ask her what was wrong when Dr. Clarkson came into the room.

"I know your father hired Sir Philip, but your mother insisted that I should still see you. And to be honest, since I have known you your entire life, I really wanted to examine you myself, if that's fine with you? And of course, with you Mr. Branson?"

Tom smiled at the doctor. "I'm fine with you checking on Sybil. I just want everything to go right."

"It is also fine with me."

"I'll step out of the room." He paused, and then looked at Isobel. "Can you stay with Sybil while she's being examined?"

"Of course! I was going to ask if I could, but it seems I do not need to ask now."

Sybil looked at her husband for a moment. "You're being overprotective."

"I know, but humour me."

She shook her head at him as he left the room. Tom couldn't keep still as he waited in the hall. He began to pace, checking his pocket watch every so often. He noticed that Dr. Clarkson's examination was taking longer than Sir Philip's did. Tom tried not to jump to conclusions. _He's just being thorough. Nothing's wrong. You're just overreacting Tom._

After nearly thirty minutes, Dr. Clarkson and Isobel left Sybil's room. Tom swiftly approached them, with a flurry of questions.

"How is she? How's the baby? Is everything as it should be?"

Dr. Clarkson spoke, but didn't really answer his questions. "I would like to confer with Sir Philip. You may go in and sit with Lady Sybil."

Isobel gave Dr. Clarkson a questioning look as he spoke. This did nothing to calm Tom's nerves, but before he could ask any more questions, Dr. Clarkson was walking down the stairs, with Isobel close behind him.

Tom entered their room, walked over to the bed and sat next to Sybil, gently taking her hand in his.

"Is everything fine, love?"

"Yes, Tom. No need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

Sybil looked at her husband, noticing the obvious worry on his face.

"Tom, what's wrong? Why are you so worried?"

He hesitated to answer. _Should I tell her about the nagging feeling? I don't want to worry her. Then again, she can read me like a book…_

"I've had this uneasy feeling since I woke this morning…"

"You're just nervous, darling. You told me last week that you were a little anxious about becoming a father."

"You're probably right, but Mrs. Crawley looked concerned over something you said before and then the look she gave Dr. Clarkson in the hall just now, it didn't calm my nerves."

While Tom and Sybil were talking upstairs, downstairs a battle of opinions was being waged, with Dr. Clarkson and Cora on one side with Sir Philip and Robert on the other.

"Based on my examination and the tests I ran, I believe Lady Sybil is suffering from toxemia. I believe the best course of treatment would be to take her to the hospital and perform a caesarian section."

"Don't be absurd," exclaimed Sir Philip. "I examined her myself, and she is perfectly fine."

"I beg to differ," replied Dr. Clarkson. "Her ankles are swollen-"

"She is nine months pregnant. And she could just have thick ankles."

"I've known Lady Sybil her entire life. She does not have thick ankles. Besides the swollen ankles, her blood pressure is high and the protein in her urine is elevated. Not to mention the baby appears to be small for this stage of pregnancy. All of which are classic signs of toxemia."

"You are needlessly jumping to conclusions. Performing a caesarian section is not necessary and highly dangerous. As I said before, Lady Sybil is perfectly fine and her pregnancy is progressing to my satisfaction."

Cora could not keep silent any longer. "I'm sorry Sir Philip, but I trust Dr. Clarkson. He's known Sybil her entire life and knows her medical history. I believe Dr. Clarkson's course of action is best for Sybil and the baby."

"I disagree, Cora," replied Robert. "Sir Philip knows what he is doing. He has delivered numerous babies before. I know you're worried about Sybil, but she will be fine."

However, Cora refused to end the discussion, resulting in plenty of back and forth comments between her and Robert. Isobel watched from the sidelines. While she agreed with Dr. Clarkson's diagnosis of toxemia, she couldn't believe that no one was discussing this matter with Sybil and Tom. It was up to them as to whether or not Sybil should have a caesarian or not. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Isobel discreetly left the library and headed back up to Sybil's room.

She was just outside the door, which was slightly ajar, when Isobel heard the pair talking.

"Tom, you're overreacting."

"Maybe. But I feel as if we're not being told something. That we're not being considered while everyone else makes decisions."

Sybil was about to speak when Isobel entered the room.

"I wish I could say I'm sorry for interrupting, but Tom isn't overreacting."

Tom had been pacing when Isobel came into the room, and turned toward her.

"What?" asked Tom.

"You two are being kept in the dark."

Tom and Sybil looked at each other, each reading the worry on the other's face. Tom swiftly moved to sit next to Sybil on the bed, taking her left hand in his right, already silently praying. _Please God. Please don't take them from me._

Sybil tightened her grip on Tom's hand and looked at Isobel. "What aren't we being told?"

"Dr. Clarkson thinks you are toxemic, Sybil. Sir Philip doesn't agree, and right now your parents are battling over who is right."

"What do you think?" asked Tom

Isobel took a deep breath and looked straight at the couple. "I agree with Dr. Clarkson. Sybil, your blood pressure is high, your ankles are swollen and the protein levels in your urine are elevated. All of which are strong-"

"-indications of toxemia," interrupted Sybil, looking down at her and her husband's entwined hands.

"What's the treatment?" asked Tom.

Sybil knew what the recommended courses of treatment would be, but couldn't bear to tell Tom. Thankfully, Isobel didn't hesitate.

"There are two courses of treatment. Labour can be induced or a caesarian section can be performed. However, the drug that induces labour can cause uterine rupture. With Sybil's health already compromised, Dr. Clarkson thinks the best course of action is to take Sybil to the hospital and perform a caesarian section."

Tom's face paled, and he squeezed his wife's hand. He needed to ask one more question, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"And if we don't agree, what could happen?"

"Either Sybil, the baby or both of them could die."

Tom swore he felt his heart drop into his stomach. It felt like his worst nightmares were seeping into reality. All he could think was _let's go. Let's go right now. I'll carry her there in my arms if I have to._

As if reading his mind, Isobel said, "Tom, a caesarian is not risk free. It's a surgical procedure which always comes with risks. Not to mention the risk of post-operative infection." She paused and looked at the pair. Sybil already knew all of this and seemed calm and ready to act. Tom looked like his whole world was about to end. She added for his benefit, "However, I believe that if you two act swiftly, the risks will be minimized. I trust Dr. Clarkson and I trust the hospital's nurses to take extra special care of one of their own. I'm going to give you some time to discuss this together. I'll wait outside."

With that, Isobel headed out the door. As soon as the door was shut, Sybil and Tom looked at one another.

"What do you think, love?"

Sybil took a deep breath. "I agree with Dr. Clarkson and Cousin Isobel. I think a caesarian is the best course of action. Are you fine with this?"

"Love, you and the baby could die no matter what we decide. Of course I'm not fine. But I know one thing at the moment. I trust you and if you think going to the hospital is for the best, then that's our decision. I'll fight your corner-"

"-_our_ corner."

"-_our_ corner with anyone who tries to challenge our decision, physically if I have no choice. I'll get Mrs. Crawley back in here to help me pack a bag for you."

He kissed her on the head, got up and opened the door to call Isobel in the room to tell her their decision. Tom paused when he saw Edith waiting with Isobel, wondering if Isobel had told her what was happening. Both women turned when they heard the door open.

Edith answered his question before he could ask it. "Isobel's told me everything. Have you two made a decision?"

Tom nodded his head and beckoned them into the room. They told Edith and Isobel their decision and it was quickly decided that Edith would bring the car around and drive the Bransons and Dr. Clarkson to the hospital. While she went to get the car, Isobel helped Tom pack a bag. As soon as they were done, she went downstairs with the bag to wait for the car. Before helping Sybil out of bed, Tom opened the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed his rosary beads, cross and the patron saint medals his mother gave him before he first came to Yorkshire, as well as the ones she had given Sybil. He hastily put the cross on and shoved the medals and the rosary into his trouser pockets. Not bothering to put his jacket on, Tom turned to Sybil, picked her up and began to head into the hallway.

"Tom, I can walk."

"I know, Syb, but I need to feel useful right now. Because God knows I won't be able to help you at the hospital."

The car was outside when they got downstairs. Upon seeing them, Isobel opened the car door for Tom and he gently placed Sybil in the car. He told Edith that he would be back shortly with Dr. Clarkson.

Sybil grabbed his hand before he could head back into the house. "Promise me you won't punch anyone, especially papa."

"I will only punch anyone as a last resort. I'm hoping it won't come to that."

"How about I go with Tom in case he needs assistance and someone to hold him back," said Isobel.

Tom nodded in agreement, kissed Sybil on the forehead and briskly headed back into the house. Mentally, he was preparing for a fight. He didn't even pause when he arrived at the library door. He just opened it, not caring if he was interrupting.

"Pardon me, but Dr. Clarkson, Edith is out front with the car. Sybil's waiting in it to go to the hospital."

For a moment, everyone was stunned by Tom's interruption and words. Dr. Clarkson was the first to come to his senses, smiling when he saw Isobel behind Tom, realizing she must have talked to the Bransons herself.

"Very good, Mr. Branson. I'll go there right now and wait for you."

He was heading for the library door when both Robert and Sir Philip recovered from their shock.

Robert spoke first. "What are you talking about?"

Tom took a deep breath and looked his father-in-law in the eye before he spoke.

"While the four of you were down here discussing my wife's health and the health of _our_ unborn child, Mrs. Crawley told us that Dr. Clarkson believes Sybil has toxemia, but that Sir Philip disagreed."

Sir Philip rounded on Isobel. "What were you thinking? Needlessly worrying Lady Sybil. There is nothing wrong with her."

"My wife and I disagree. We asked Mrs. Crawley, a former nurse, her opinion, and she agreed with Dr. Clarkson. It was my wife's decision to go to the hospital and I support her decision, and I trust my wife, _Nurse Branson_, when it comes to medical decisions."

Robert's face darkened at Tom calling Sybil Nurse Branson. "You are ignoring sound medical advice! I absolutely forbid you to take Sybil to the hospital!"

Tom's jaw clenched at his father-in-law's use of forbid, his mind returning to the night Sybil and him told her family about their engagement. He wanted to tell him to sod off, but forced himself to choose his words carefully.

"With all due respect, it's not your decision to make or forbid. It's Sybil's and mine. And we made a decision and it's final!"

Cora had been standing there watching as her husband and son-in-law verbally sparred. She felt ashamed when Tom stated that they were making decisions about Sybil and the baby without talking to them. As much as she still thought of Sybil as her baby, his words were a reminder that she was a grown woman. Cora was also impressed with how Tom stood his ground against Robert. For the first time, she saw what Sybil saw in him.

"Tom," Cora said. "You, Sybil, Edith and Dr. Clarkson go ahead to the hospital. Isobel, can you please accompany them? We'll follow shortly." She whispered the next part so only Tom could hear. "I'll calm him down before we get to the hospital."

Tom nodded and left the library, quickly moving towards the front entrance and the waiting car with Isobel and Dr. Clarkson following closely at his heels. He quickly got into the car, seating himself next to Sybil. The others quickly took seats in the car, and Edith began to drive.

Taking Tom's hands in her, Sybil looked at her husband. "You didn't punch anyone, did you?"

He smiled at his wife. "No, and I didn't tell your father to sod off like I wanted to."

"Why did you want to tell him to sod off?"

Isobel smirked at Sybil cursing, especially when she heard Edith gasp in the front. The Bransons, however, were not paying attention to anyone else.

"He tried to forbid me to take you to the hospital. I then informed him that it wasn't his decision to make. He didn't like that. Your mother is dealing with him at the moment."

Sybil was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Thank you for staying your temper and fighting for us."

"There's no need to thank me, love. You know I'd do anything for you."

With that, Tom and Sybil were silent for the rest of the drive to the hospital, each silently praying and hoping for the best. Ten minutes later, Edith pulled the car up outside the hospital, and Sybil was whisked inside.

"Nurse Carter," said Dr. Clarkson, "please show Lady Sybil-"

"-Mrs. Branson," interrupted Sybil.

"Please show Mrs. Branson to a private room. We need to perform a caesarian. Once she is settled, prep the operating room."

"Yes, doctor."

"I'll go with Sybil," said Isobel.

Dr. Clarkson looked at Tom and spoke, "Mr. Branson, we need to settle Mrs. Branson into a room before we operate. I'll have one of the nurses tell you when we bring her into the operating room. You can wait over there."

"Can I stay with her until she goes in for the operation?"

Dr. Clarkson hesitated, never having a man request to be with his wife during labour before.

"Please, Dr. Clarkson," Tom softly said.

He looked up at the young man before him, a pleading look in his eyes, and he did not have the heart to tell him no.

He nodded at Tom and said, "Just until we need to prep her. Then you'll have to wait out here."

Tom gave the doctor a small smile. "Thank you. I'll do as you say. I just want to be with her right now."

He nodded at Dr. Clarkson and then walked in the direction that Sybil and Isobel had gone moments before. Tom briskly walked and soon found Sybil in the last room at the end of the corridor.

"Hello, love."

Sybil looked up and gave him a small smile. Tom saw the worry and fear in her eyes, and he was certain she could see the same in his. He wanted and needed to talk to her in private.

"Mrs. Crawley, may Sybil and I," he paused to find the right words, not wanting to insult her, "have some time alone?"

She looked between Tom and Sybil briefly and nodded her head. "Of course. I'll go to the waiting room. Someone should be there when Cousin Cora and Cousin Robert arrive."

"Thank you, Cousin Isobel," said Sybil.

The older woman smiled and left the couple alone. Tom went over to Sybil and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a hold of her hands.

"What can I do?"

"You're doing it, Tom. Just being here with me right now is bringing me comfort."

Sybil looked down at their entwined hands and whispered, "I'm scared."

"Me too."

"I could die."

"I know."

"The baby…"

"I know."

They sat in silence, holding on to each other, trying to stave off their worst fears. After twenty minutes, Dr. Clarkson and a nurse came to check on Sybil.

"How are you, Mrs. Branson?" asked Dr. Clarkson.

"I'm nervous Dr. Clarkson." Sybil saw the nurse and greeted her, remembering her from when she worked at the hospital during the war. "Hello, Nurse Sims."

"Hello, Mrs. Branson."

"Now Mrs. Branson, or Nurse Branson as your husband pointed out earlier, do you want me to take you through the procedure?"

Tom instinctively squeezed Sybil's hand. As much as he wanted to know, there was a greater part of Tom that didn't want to know all the details. Sybil, sensing this, took charge.

"No, I know how a caesarian is performed, Dr. Clarkson. I assisted with several births when I worked in Dublin. And I think Tom understands its main purpose."

Tom simply nodded, too afraid that if he spoke, his voice would betray his fears.

"Very well. I'll be using ether to put you under. I assume you know the side effects?"

"I do, but Tom does not."

He turned to Tom. "Would you like to know the side effects of the ether anesthesia?"

Again, Tom nodded.

"The side effects of ether include vomiting and nausea post-operation. In addition, unconsciousness can last for up to three hours, and the patient, in this case Mrs. Branson, can appear pale, grey or blue skinned due to a lack of oxygen."

Tom eyes widened at the last part and he reflexively squeezed Sybil's hand. Upon seeing his reaction, Dr. Clarkson decided not to mention that ether was flammable. _He probably knows this already and if he doesn't I'm not going to tell him. Poor man looks terrified enough as it is._

"I know the side effects are unpleasant. I wish there was another form of anesthesia on hand that I trusted. However, I do not have nitrous oxide here and I do not trust the use of chloroform. I'm sorry.

"I understand, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you," said Sybil. _He didn't mention it's flammability. Good. Tom doesn't need to hear that at the moment._

"Very well. It's time I prepped for the operation. I will leave Nurse Sims here to monitor you."

Sybil nodded. "Can Tom stay until I'm taken into the operating room?"

The good doctor nodded. "I've already given him my permission to stay until you need to be prepared for surgery."

He then left the room, leaving Sybil and Tom with the nurse.

After he left, Nurse Sims began to talk to Sybil and Tom. "I wish I was seeing you again under better circumstances. I'm not going to tell you not to be nervous. Either of you. But we'll make sure to take extra care of you." She looked at Tom and added, "I promise."

Tom nodded his head in thanks. After that, talking ceased amongst the group, as the reality of what was happening really began to sink in. After some time, Nurse Carter entered the room and told them the operating room was ready and that it was time to prepare Sybil for surgery. They looked at each other, still holding hands, realizing this was it.

Sybil looked at Tom and squeezed his hand. There was so much she wanted to say to him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how she was so grateful he waited for her, and how she didn't deserve a husband as wonderful as him.

Tom looked at Sybil as she squeezed his hand. There was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how happy she made him, and how he didn't deserve such a loving woman as his wife.

But there was no time.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Branson, but you need to go to the waiting area now. We need to prepare Mrs. Branson for surgery."

He leaned in and kissed Sybil gently on the lips, then hugged her and inhaled her scent, hoping and praying this would not be the last time he did these things.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

She whispered back, "I love you, Tom."

Tom stood up and forced himself to leave. Nurse Sims followed close behind and guided him to the waiting area.

"Has any of Sybil's family arrived?"

"Lord and Lady Grantham arrived fifteen minutes ago. His Lordship looked thunderous when he arrived. Mrs. Crawley ushered them into Dr. Clarkson's office."

"God, I'm not in the mood to deal with him." He paused. "I'm sorry about that."

Nurse Sims waved him off. "No need to apologize, Mr. Branson. Mrs. Crawley anticipated this and directed me to bring you to the waiting area. She also emphasized that you were to be told how Mrs. Branson's caesarian went before anyone else."

"I don't care what anyone says about her, right now I'm grateful to her. And to you," he hastily added, not wanting to offend the nurse taking care of his wife.

Nurse Sims gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Branson. The waiting area is right there," she said pointing to a row of brown chairs. "Do you have any questions?"

"How long until I know if…?"

"I don't know. Nurse Carter and I will be assisting Dr. Clarkson. As soon as the operation's done, I'll come and tell you. I promise."

She turned and walked back down the corridor. Tom sat on one of the chairs, trying to calm his nerves. Feeling slightly suffocated, he loosened his tie and opened his collar, and unbuttoned his cuffs, haphazardly rolling his sleeves up. He began to run his hands through his hair and tap his left foot on the floor repeatedly. After some time, he wasn't sure how long, Tom saw Isobel approach him.

"She just went into the operating room. How are you, Tom?"

"Terrified. She means everything to me. _They_ mean everything to me. I don't know what I'll do if…"

Isobel sat down next to Tom and began rubbing his back in a motherly way. _If only Robert would open his eyes and mind and see how much this man loves his daughter._

After a few minutes, Tom spoke. "You don't have to stay here with me, Mrs. Crawley. These chairs aren't very comfortable. You can wait in Dr. Clarkson's office with Lord and Lady Grantham. I'll be fine here.

"Don't be silly. I'm staying here with you. At least until Mary and Matthew get here. And I don't want to be in Dr. Clarkson's office at the moment. Robert and Sir Philip are in there and words were exchanged between us earlier. Cora's dealing with them. Though don't be surprised if she joins you out here at some point. Besides, the office will be crowded soon enough. Edith went to get Cousin Violet."

Tom groaned. "I don't know if I can deal with both my father-in-law and Old Lady Grantham right now."

"Which is why I told Edith to take her time driving to and returning from Cousin Violet's. I also told her to take Cousin Violet directly to Dr. Clarkson's office when she returned."

"Thank you, Mrs. Crawley."

"It's Isobel. We are family after all."

There was no more talking after that. Tom couldn't sit still any longer. He rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth, and began running his hands through his hair again. When he noticed Isobel watching him, Tom sheepishly placed his hands in his pockets. That's when he felt the medals and his rosary beads that he'd put in his pockets earlier.

Tom pulled them out and looked at them, finding some comfort in them.

"What are those?" asked Isobel.

"These," said Tom, holding up the rosary beads, "are my rosary beads. I've had them since I received my First Communion."

"And those?"

"These are medals that my mother gave to both Sybil and me. Mine I received when I left to work at Downton. Sybil received one from my mother on our wedding day to welcome her into the family. She gave her the other a week after we told her Sybil was pregnant. Ma was thrilled." He paused for a moment. "I might need to pray."

Isobel smiled at him. "Don't let me stop you. If it will bring you comfort, you should do it."

Tom put away all of the medals except for the medal his mother gave Sybil after they announced their baby news. It was a medal of St. Margaret of Antioch. He remembered what his mother said to Sybil as she handed her the medal, her little way of showing love and protection. _Pray to her when you're in labor. She'll watch over you, Sybil._ He made the sign of the cross, leaned forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, and clasped his hands together with the rosary and medal between his hands. Closing his eyes, he began to pray.

_Dear God, Please protect Sybil and our unborn child. They don't deserve to come to any harm. Sybil has so much she wants to see and do. She's the epitome of love, at least to me she is. She's a nurse. I know you know that, but she didn't have to become a nurse. But Sybil did because she cares and always wants to help. Think of all the good she can still do. And the baby…We were overjoyed when we found out about the baby. Sybil especially. We've loved the baby since we found out about him or her. So, please, please protect them._

Tom then began praying to St. Margaret, repeating the same words over and over again. _St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby. St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby. St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby…_

He kept praying, going back and forth between God and St. Margaret, hoping for some divine protection for his family. He prayed and prayed, begging at times for his wife and child's safety. He didn't hear people come and go. He heard nothing but his own thoughts, swirling around in his head.

Tom was brought out of his invocations by someone shaking his arm. He looked up to see Nurse Sims standing over him. He popped up, bracing himself for the worst.

"Is Sybil…"

"Mrs. Branson did beautifully. The caesarian went smoothly and she's already showing signs of improvement."

"And the baby?"

"Your daughter is healthy and beautiful. You're going to have to lock your doors to keep the boys away."

Tom beamed at the news. _They're okay. They're safe. My girls are safe._ It then hit him that he had a daughter. He hoped for a little girl from the moment Sybil told him she was expecting. He closed his eyes for a moment. _God and St. Margaret, thank you._

Out of nowhere, Tom felt a slap on his back and turned his head to see Matthew, with Mary right next to him. Turning to the left, he saw his mother-in-law right next to him. He had no idea that they had been sitting with him.

"How long have you all been here with me?" asked a very confused Tom.

Matthew laughed. "For a while. I went to speak to you when we got here and my mother threatened me with death if I disturbed you. She said that you were praying and it was the calmest she'd seen you since just before telling you and Sybil about Sybil's condition. Wisely I listened to her."

"I owe her so much."

He turned back to Nurse Sims. "Can I see my daughter? Please."

"Of course! Follow me."

Tom followed close behind Nurse Sims, eager to meet his daughter. For the first time in hours, he felt relief and happiness. He truly believed that if they could get through this, they would get through anything.

Nurse Sims opened a door and Tom walked into a room filled with bassinets. She walked across the room and stopped at the last bassinet. He followed slowly, a little nervous to be meeting his daughter. The baby was already in Nurse Sims arms by the time he reached the bassinet. She handed the baby to him gently and he looked down at his daughter.

Tom gasped. She was absolutely beautiful. He felt like his heart would burst with love for this little person he just met. It both shocked and scared him at the same time. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She wasn't bald, but she only had some fuzz on her head. He moved the blanket and began to count her fingers. He melted a little when he saw them. They were ten of the tiniest fingers he'd ever seen. Tom then went to count her toes. Ten as well. He leaned down and kissed her on her cute, little nose. She opened her eyes when he did that, and Tom was surprised at the little blue orbs staring back at him. _She has my eyes. I can't believe Sybil and I made her. She's so beautiful._ He felt tears come to his eyes.

"Hello little one. I'm your da."

His daughter just yawned and closed her eyes.

Tom spoke softly to her. "Too tired to stay awake for your da? That's alright. You've had a very busy day."

He began to gently rock her in his arms, singing a lullaby to her to help her fall back to sleep. After about ten minutes, Tom looked up at Nurse Sims. "She's asleep."

"I'll put her back in her bassinet." She took his daughter from his arms and Tom felt sad. He wanted to keep holding her. She gently placed the baby in the bassinet and turned back to him.

"Would you like to see your wife, Mr. Branson? She's not awake yet, but I thought you would like to sit with her."

"Yes, I would. I need to see her," replied Tom.

They quietly exited the nursery and began the long walk to Sybil's bed. Tom was deep in thought as they walked. He knew the Crawleys would want to see the baby as soon as possible, but it didn't feel right for the family to see the baby before Sybil did. He thought about the problem as they walked, only making a decision once they arrived at Sybil's bed.

"Nurse Sims, can I ask you for two favors?"

She nodded. "You can, Mr. Branson."

"Can you make sure no one else sees the baby yet? I want Sybil to meet her daughter before the rest of the family. And can you bring my mother-in-law here? I know she's been worried about Sybil and I want to explain my decision to her."

"Yes, Mr. Branson."

Then she left, leaving Tom alone with an unconscious Sybil. He noticed a chair was beside the bed. He pulled it up so he could face Sybil. He sat down and took a hold of her hand. He thought he'd be relieved that Sybil made through the surgery, but with her lying so still and her skin so pale, the fear that had left him quickly returned.

"I'm here, love. I'm here. I'm not leaving you alone."

Tom brought Sybil's hand to his lips and gently kissed it, then moved their enjoined hands to over his chest to his heart. He bent his head down, keeping her hand pressed against his lips, watching his beloved wife for any signs of waking.

Tom was so absorbed in watching Sybil, he didn't hear Cora approach.

"Tom?"

He jumped a little, startled by the sound of someone speaking. He turned and saw his mother-in-law.

"I thought you would like to see Sybil yourself," he said to her.

"I do. Thank you."

Tom stood up so she could sit down. She gladly took the seat and gazed at Sybil, Tom noticing the worry that was etched on her face for the first time that day. He'd been so scared about losing Sybil and the baby, he hadn't thought about what her parents had been going through.

"Lady Grantham, I'm sorry if…if-"

Cora didn't let him finish. "There's no need to apologize Tom. You were afraid you were going to lose your family. I didn't exactly consider you or my daughter this afternoon. And please call me Cora."

"I don't think his Lordship would like that."

"His Lordship will just have to deal with it," she said with a bit of anger in her voice, though Tom was pretty sure it wasn't directed at him.

He decided to talk to Cora about the baby. "About the baby-"

"How is she?" she interrupted again.

Tom smiled, both at the mention of his daughter and the fact that he just saw where Sybil got a bit of her personality. "She's perfect and beautiful and so tiny. I didn't fall in love with Sybil that quickly."

"When can we see her?"

"Tomorrow. I want Sybil to see her first." He stopped afraid that he'd just offended Cora (_God, it's going to be odd to call her that_).

In his fear, he began to ramble. "Not that I don't want the family to see the baby, it's just that Sybil's been looking forward to meeting the baby since she first found out she was expecting, probably since she first suspected she was with child. And she did all the work with the pregnancy and it just doesn't feel right for everyone to see and meet her before Sybil does."

"Are you finished?" asked Cora.

He nodded.

"Good. I agree with you. As much as I want to meet my granddaughter, I know how I would have felt if I was in Sybil's position. And Tom, don't worry about the rest of the family. I'll take care of them, especially His Lordship."

"Thank you." He paused, hesitating to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. However, his curiosity got the best of him. "Can I ask why you're angry with the Earl?"

"Yes. He made some rude comments and he refuses to see how the caesarian was the best decision for Sybil and the baby. Basically, it's he's right and everyone else is wrong. Honestly, I'm tired of it at the moment."

Tom thought for a moment over what Cora just said. "I won't stop him from seeing Sybil and the baby tomorrow, but if he upsets Sybil at all, I will tell him to leave. I don't care if he tosses me out of Downton."

"Don't worry about that. I won't let him." She gave Sybil one last look and stood up. "I'm going to leave you two. Will you be coming home tonight?"

He bit back a comment about Downton not being home, instead focusing on the matter at hand. "I doubt it. She hasn't woken up yet, and I can't bear the thought of leaving them here."

"I thought so. I had Alfred pack a bag for you and I brought it with me. I'll give it to Isobel and you can go there in the morning and change. Bye."

Cora then left the Bransons. Tom returned to the chair and holding Sybil's hand. Again, he began watching for any sign that she was waking, needing to see Sybil awake before he could start relaxing.

The nurses came and went. Dr. Clarkson came to check on Sybil and tried to encourage Tom to leave for the night. He ignored everyone and remained firm: he was staying. As the minutes slipped by, the emotional turmoil of the day finally began to wear on Tom. Before he knew it was happening, he fell asleep, still clutching Sybil's hand.

* * *

Sybil felt like she was stuck in a bog. Her limbs felt heavy, so heavy that it was as though they couldn't move. She felt a searing pain in her abdomen, which was followed by a wave of nausea. Ever so slowly, she forced her eyes to open, blinking them several times. The first thing she noticed was the sweet, almost cloying smell of ether. She shifted a little and felt a stab of pain in her abdomen. Instinctively, her right hand went to her stomach. It was then that Sybil noticed that she was no longer carrying the baby. She began to panic, before the memory of the day's events all came flooding back to her. Tom telling her about the uneasy feeling he was having, being told by Cousin Isobel that Dr. Clarkson believed she was suffering from toxemia, the mad dash to the hospital, sitting with Tom and confessing her fears and his whispered words of love. Tears began to spring to Sybil's eyes, overwhelmed by all that had happened

Feeling some air blowing against her hand, Sybil looked down and to her left, seeing the honey colored hair of her husband. He was leaning forward on a chair, practically falling off it, with their hands entwined and his head and face practically on the bed. Sybil gazed at her husband and was about to wake him when she took in the state of his appearance. His hair was disheveled and sticking up in places, his tie was loosened and his collar was open and his sleeves were sloppily rolled up his arms. Sybil knew her husband well enough to recognize the signs of distress in him.

She wanted Tom to wake up right now, to make sure she really was awake. Yet, part of her didn't have the heart to wake him, knowing and seeing how the day had worn at him. She settled for gazing at him for a few minutes, watching him sleep and seeing him at peace for the first time in weeks. As the end of her pregnancy approached, Sybil had experienced more fatigue than she had during her second trimester. Most nights, she went to bed before him, knowing it would take her a long time to find a comfortable position. She'd only seen Tom the last few weeks when he was awake, and in the light of day, he was always tense. _He's been so lost since we came back to Downton, and papa hasn't made it easy. Always throwing disparaging comments at him. As if Tom didn't feel guilty enough about everything that had happened in Ireland. Which was only made worse with the baby… _As soon as Sybil thought of the baby, a little mewling began. She turned her head towards the sound, and saw her baby in a little bassinette to her right. However, the movement brought on another wave of nausea, and she squeezed Tom's hand, waking him up.

Tom looked at Sybil, blinking his eyes a few times as he grew accustomed to being awake. Then his eyes widened as he realized Sybil was awake.

"Sybil? How are you? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"

She closed her eyes. "I'm nauseas and my abdomen hurts."

She looked at him, her eyes full of relief and happiness, and squeezed his hand again to make sure she really was awake. When he squeezed back, she let out a breath. The baby was still making noise, demanding the attention of both of her parents.

Turning her head toward the baby, she said, "I think someone wants our attention."

He grinned, more like beamed, at her. "Our little girl wants our attention."

Sybil's head turned towards Tom, tears streaming down her face. "A girl? We have a girl?!"

Tom nodded, welling up a bit himself. "And she's absolutely perfect and beautiful. Like her mother."

"I want to hold her. I need to."

"I know. And you will. But first, I need to let the nurse and Dr. Clarkson know that you're awake."

"No need, Mr. Branson. I was coming to check on Mrs. Branson when I heard you two," said Dr. Clarkson as he entered the room followed closely behind by a nurse.

Sybil gave the doctor a small smile. "Can I see my baby, please?"

The doctor smiled at her. "Yes, I just want to see how you're doing, since you were the one with the health problem. I'm going to have the nurse take your blood pressure. We've checked it periodically while you were unconscious, and it has improved. However, I want to see how it is with you awake. I will also need to test your urine to make sure the protein levels are decreasing. Once we've run these tests, you can hold your daughter. Agreed?"

"I doubt I have an actual say in the matter."

"No, you don't, but I've found since coming to Downton Village the easiest way to deal with a Crawley woman is to be in agreement with her."

Sybil and Tom both laughed, thinking of Dr. Clarkson's run-ins with both Isobel and the Dowager.

"Now Mrs. Branson, how are you feeling?"

"My abdomen hurts, as expected. I'm also nauseas from the anesthesia."

"Any vomiting?"

"No. I haven't been up long, but I've only been nauseas."

"Well, that's good at least. I'm going to step out while the nurse takes your blood pressure and collects a urine sample. I promised your parents that I would call when you awoke."

She nodded her head at Dr. Clarkson. After he left the room, the nurse, who had been tending to the now calm baby, took Sybil's blood pressure and collected the urine sample. The nurse, who wasn't either Nurse Sims or Nurse Carter, quickly gathered the sample and left for Dr. Clarkson to test it. Fifteen minutes later, he returned smiling.

"Mr. Branson, Mrs. Branson, the results are good. Your blood pressure is slowly normalizing. There is still protein in your urine, but I won't know for some time if the levels are dropping. Mrs. Branson, you will need to remain at the hospital for two weeks. After that, you will be able to return home for the rest of your recovery. We'll still monitor your blood pressure and urine while you stay here, and an anti-convulsant will be adminsitered until the threat of seizures passes. However, I'm optimistic that you will have a full recovery. Our main hurdle now is preventing post-operative infection. Though between you and the nurses here, I think that can be managed."

Tom spoke first, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson."

"Yes, thank you," Sybil said. "Now, can I see my daughter?"

Dr. Clarkson let out a loud laugh. "Yes, you may. I suspect that she'll be hungry soon."

On cue, Baby Girl Branson began whimpering again. Tom and Dr. Clarkson helped Sybil to sit up a bit, propping her up with several pillows. She winced as she moved, feeling the effects of the surgery. Once they got her situated, the nurse handed a waiting Sybil her daughter.

Sybil looked down at the bundle and she was mesmerized. She forgot about everyone else around her. She was busy falling head over heels in love with her little girl. She was the most beautiful baby in the world. Sybil was taking stock of her, trying to see who she looked like, but she wasn't able to. _She doesn't have any hair, but a fine little layer of fuzz. I'll need to keep her in bonnets to keep her head warm._ Sybil continued to gaze upon her, completely captivated. As she looked at her, their daughter opened her eyes, revealing Tom's blue eyes staring back at Sybil. She welled up when she saw that. _She has Tom's eyes. She's so beautiful._

Sybil didn't have time to think anything else. The baby continued mewling, hungry and demanding to be fed. Dr. Clarkson took his leave then, and the nurse and Tom helped Sybil get into a comfortable position to breast feed, placing a pillow on her lap to prevent the baby from lying on her stitches. It took another ten minutes for the baby to latch on, but once she did, she fed greedily. The nurse then left the little family alone.

Tom sat down on the chair, pulling it closer to the bed, watching as his wife fed their daughter. As he watched them together, it hit home how close he came to losing one or both of them. _If Isobel hadn't shown up when she did, would they even be here right now?_

He was taken from his thoughts by Sybil's teasing voice. "You're looking awfully hard at the moment. It's not like you haven't seen them before."

Tom chuckled at her remark. "I'm amazed at the moment. She's so beautiful, Syb."

"I know. Did you see her eyes?"

He nodded, beaming at his wife. This was as it should be. The two of them sitting together, gushing over their baby girl. This felt right.

"I have to tell you something. I was hoping that the baby, boy or girl, would have your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yes. One of the first things I fell in love with was your eyes. I know the saying is that someone wears their heart on their sleeve, but you wear your heart in your eyes. How could I not want my child to have those eyes?"

Tom was speechless, which was a rare thing to behold. He leaned over and kissed Sybil softly on her temple and whispered, "Thank you."

Sybil smiled at Tom and then returned to the baby. There was silence for several minutes as they watched their daughter eat.

It was Sybil who broke the silence. "She needs a name."

"I know. We have the list of names we like."

"She doesn't look like a Kathleen."

"No, she doesn't. But Ma won't be upset." He paused. "She definitely doesn't look like a Violet."

Sybil laughed. "Definitely not. Not imperious enough."

Tom laughed at that. They spent the next ten minutes going through their list of girl names, eliminating each one.

"Rose doesn't fit her either," said Sybil, eliminating the last name on their list.

It was then that the baby pulled away from Sybil's breast, her little belly full. Tom got up to help Sybil cover herself up. He then held out his arms to his daughter. His wife gave him a look, almost accusing him of taking the baby away from her.

"Don't look at me like that. We made an agreement months ago, remember. When we're both around, you feed and I wind. This part is my job. Besides, you got to hold her longer than I did."

Sybil smiled at her husband, then leaned down and kissed her daughter on her cute, little nose before handing her to Tom. He sat back down on the chair and began to gently unwrap the baby from her blankets. He grabbed a cloth off the side table, placed her on to his left shoulder and softly started patting her back.

Now it was Sybil's turn to watch her husband and daughter. She thought about how close she came to not having this. If one thing had gone differently today, she might not be here right now. _Or heaven forbid, the baby might not be here._ She shivered a little at the thought.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her daughter burping. Tom quickly swaddled the baby and held her in his arms, gazing adoringly at her. Sybil smiled at the sight. _He's as in love with her as I am._

"I have an idea for a name, but I'm not sure you'll like it," said Tom.

"As we've eliminated all the names on our list, I don't see how it can hurt to share your idea with me," she replied.

"How about Margaret?"

"Margaret Branson…I like it. But why Margaret?"

Tom gave her a sheepish look. Now her curiosity was peaked.

"You promise not to laugh?"

"Yes."

"I spent the entire time you were in surgery praying to God and St. Margaret of Antioch to watch over the both of you. I didn't make any promise to name the baby after her, but since you both are okay, I thought it would be a nice tribute to her."

Sybil smiled. She couldn't believe he thought she would laugh. She knew her husband. If he was praying, he was terrified. "I think that would be a lovely tribute to her." She laughed then, remembering something her mother-in-law told her about St. Margaret. "And it's quite fitting since today is her feast day."

Tom looked at his wife, confused to how she knew that. Sybil just laughed.

"Your mother told me that. How else would I have known?"

"True."

"Well, we're agreed on Margaret for a first name. Now we need a middle name. I have an idea for one."

"So do I."

They looked at each other and said at the same time, "Isobel."

Tom and Sybil laughed, pleased that they both agreed without even needing to discuss it that they needed to honor Isobel for all that she had done for them that day.

With their daughter still in his arms, Tom moved over to sit on the side of the bed, and gently placed the baby into Sybil's arms. He then gently wrapped his arms around his wife, resting his hands on the baby, holding the two most important people in his world.

Looking down at her daughter, Sybil said, "Welcome to the world, Margaret Isobel Branson."


	2. Chapter 2

_First of all, I would like to thank Scarletcourt for betaing my story. Without her wonderful and insightful comments, this chapter would be longer and not as good as it is._

_I want to thank everyone that reviewed, especially those guest reviewers I was unable to reply to. So kitty, abbie, duchess, and the one unnamed guest, thank you. I'd also like to thank Welsh mama, who reviewed the story before she signed up and began to share her wonderful stories with us._

_Please read and review, and don't be afraid to offer constructive criticism. I struggled with writing this chapter, so all feedback is welcomed._

_Also, I wanted to let my readers know that after this chapter, I am putting "The First Year" on hiatus to focus on "In Her Best Interests."_

* * *

**Wednesday, 21 July 1920**

Sybil stirred from her sleep shortly after dawn, her sleep disrupted by a noise. Turning her head towards the noise, she saw the most breathtaking sight. Tom was holding their daughter and singing softly to her.

_I never envied those rich millionaires_

_Who sit around in their silk-covered chairs_

_Any old sofa with someone who cares_

_It would more than do_

_Just you and me and I'd want nothing more_

_Maybe a baby to play on the floor_

_I'd have a whole lot to be thankful for_

_If I had you_

_If I had you_

_To just be around when I'm blue_

_A "Four by Two" would be like a mansion on Fifth Avenue_

_I wouldn't change places with Carnegie!_

_And that goes for Rock'feller too!_

_They could keep all their troubles and "Automobubbles"_

_If I had you_

She continued watching as Tom continued singing to Maggie. Before she realized she was doing it, Sybil chuckled, causing her husband to turn to look at her.

"How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to watch and listen to you with our little girl."

Tom's face reddened in embarrassment. "I hope I didn't wake you. She was fussing a bit, and I wanted to calm her down so you could sleep more."

"It's fine, darling. She's probably going to want to be fed soon."

Before Tom could reply, Maggie whimpered in response, before heading into full-blown crying. Tom was briefly panic-stricken until Sybil reached out her arms and said, "Bring her here. She's hungry. As I told you she would be."

Tom walked over to the bed and gave Maggie over to Sybil. While she held the baby, Tom helped her to sit up a little straighter. Once she was in a better position, Tom grabbed the pillow left in the room for Maggie to lay on while Sybil fed her. As soon as that was in place, Sybil opened the flap on her nursing gown so she could feed. It took a few minutes for Maggie to latch on, but once she did, their fussy little girl quieted down.

The little family sat in silence for several minutes, both parents watching their daughter eat. It was then that Sybil chuckled, shaking her head at some funny thought.

Tom couldn't help chuckling himself. "Why are you laughing?"

Sybil looked up at him and said, "I was just thinking that she's a true Branson – she quiets down when she gets food."

Laughing, he replied, "I can't argue with that."

"I wonder what she'll get from me and my family."

"Well, she already has your lips and your nose."

"I think it's too early to tell whose nose she has," Sybil said.

Tom tilted his head. "Perhaps."

"I hope she doesn't have my hair."

He shook his head, obviously disagreeing with her. "I love your hair. I want her to have it."

"Curly hair can be a nightmare, darling. Your sisters all have beautiful straight hair. It'll be easier to brush it if her locks are straight. Not to mention plaiting it or putting in pigtails. No, I'm hoping she has straight hair."

"Can I at least hope she has your hair color, love? You know how much I love it. It's beautiful."

Sybil smiled at her husband. "You can hope for whatever you want. I'm just hoping that she doesn't have curly hair."

Maggie pulled away from her mother's breast then. Tom helped Sybil fix her clothing. When he went to grab a cloth to burp their daughter, his wife stopped him and ordered him to give her the cloth so she could burp Maggie. Seeing the steely determination in her eyes, Tom chose to listen to his wife. Sybil was a little nervous, afraid that she would either pat Maggie's back too hard and hurt her or not pat her hard enough and cause her discomfort, but she knew she needed to learn to do this.

Sensing her nerves, Tom sat down on the chair and gently rubbed her leg with his hand. Her nerves easing at Tom's touch, Sybil put the cloth on her shoulder, brought Maggie to her shoulder and began gently patting her back. It took a little while, but eventually the little girl burped. Sybil then moved her daughter back into her arms, cradling the baby close to her heart. Noticing Maggie yawning, she began to hum a lullaby to her. Soon, the baby was sleeping.

Still looking at their daughter, Sybil softly said, "I can't believe we made her. She's so perfect and tiny. I just…"

"What, love?"

"I'm just in awe right now."

Tom smiled. "Me too."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Sybil spoke out of the blue. "I hope she has my grandmama's quick thinking and her ear for music."

"I'm assuming you mean Martha."

"Yes. Grandmama never lets anything get her down and she's a fantastic problem solver. And her singing voice is so beautiful."

"Don't forget you have a beautiful singing voice."

Sybil eyed her husband. "Well, you're biased."

Tom chuckled. "Perhaps. But I see a lot of Martha in you."

"Thank you. So does mama. She told me in one of the letters we exchanged last fall."

"I know not to argue with my mother-in-law," he said, fighting back a grin.

She shook her head and was silent for a moment, thinking about a few things. "I hope Maggie inherits qualities from the Levinson side of my family. I do love my father and my sisters, and of course granny, but they don't react well to change."

"I'm not sure whether you should include Edith in there. She's starting to embrace and ask for change. She just lacks your confidence. Besides, having heard what I did when I was the chauffeur, I know more than anyone how little support Edith's received over the years."

"You have a soft spot for her," Sybil said.

Taking her hand, Tom said, "Well, my two favorite women are in this room. But yes, I do have a soft spot for Edith. What she needs is support as she carves out her own future."

Nothing more needed to be said, and they sat there holding hands and looking at their daughter for a while until Tom noticed Sybil's eyes were drooping. He got up and carefully picked up Maggie, returning her to her bassinette. When he turned back to Sybil, she was already back asleep. He returned to the chair, gently covered Sybil's hand with his, and shut his eyes, feeling the need to sleep himself.

It was a little after nine in the morning, and Isobel was enjoying a cup of tea in her sitting room when she heard a knock at the door. She arose from her floral-printed white chair and went to answer it. Upon opening it, she came face to face with a tired and disheveled Tom Branson.

She smiled and greeted him, opening the door fully to let him walk in. "Good morning, Tom. I was wondering when you would come over. I started to think you were never going to leave the hospital."

"Hello. I wasn't planning to stop by just yet, but I've been ordered by my wife to shave, change my clothes and eat something before I return to the hospital. Apparently, I was monopolizing the baby and she wanted to have some mother-daughter time with her."

"How is Sybil? And the baby?"

"Both of them are doing well. Sybil was nauseous for a bit after she woke up, but it eventually subsided. She's in pain right now and she has to stay in the hospital for about a week, but her blood pressure is returning to normal. As a precaution, she's being given an anti-convulsant until the threat of seizures passes. And the baby is absolutely perfect. I think she looks like Sybil."

"That's wonderful. Which do you want to do first: eat or clean up?"

"Bathe and shave. I kissed the baby goodbye and I got the impression from her cries that she did not like my stubble. I think it's best if I don't rush that. I can eat some toast quickly when I'm finished."

Smiling, Isobel replied, "Nonsense. Ethel and I can surely cook up something a bit more substantial for you than toast. We've got eggs, bacon, and I think there are sausages in the larder."

"Oh, please don't go through so much trouble for me. Toast will be fine. I want to return to the hospital as soon as possible."

However, Isobel wasn't going to back down. "Tom, you need to eat more than just some slices of toast. When was the last time you had a meal?"

Tom thought for a moment before answering. "Not since luncheon yesterday."

"Then you most certainly need more than toast." She paused to take in the young man standing before her. "I know you're still worried about Sybil and the baby, and that you want to be at the hospital to help and take care of them. But you're not going to be of any use to either of them if you collapse from hunger. Now you can argue with me all you like, but you are going to have a proper meal before you return to the hospital."

Tom chuckled, seeing quite a bit of Sybil in the older woman and realized arguing was going to be pointless. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, causing Isobel to chuckle herself.

"Well, at least you're a quicker learner than Matthew. Now, your clothes are pressed and hanging in Matthew's room, which is the second door on the right. Along with your clothes, Alfred packed your toiletries. Matthew left his shaving cup here when he moved to the big house, so you can use that. I think that covers everything. Oh, wait! Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Usually, I drink tea, but I think this is a coffee day."

"Didn't get much sleep?"

"No, the baby woke up every few hours."

"Welcome to parenthood."

"Thanks," Tom retorted.

With that, he began to climb the stairs, only to stop on the fourth step, and walk back down.

"Ethel? What happened to Mrs. Bird?"

"I was wondering when you were going to notice. I hired Ethel Parks a few days ago to work here. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bird refused to work with her and made it clear it was either her or Ethel. I chose Ethel."

"Why didn't Mrs. Bird want to work with Ethel?"

Isobel hesitated for a moment, before deciding to tell Tom the truth. "As you no doubt know, Ethel had a child. The father-"

"-was a bastard who didn't take responsibility for his child and then got himself killed at the Battle of Vittorio Veneto." He paused. "I'm sorry for interrupting and swearing."

She smiled. "It's fine. I appreciate the sentiment behind your words. In any case, she had a hard time finding work as an unwed mother and needing to feed her son, Ethel turned to...well, she began working in York's red-light district." Here Isobel stopped, afraid of the young man's reaction to this bit of news.

Tom sensed her fear. "If you think that would shock me, think again. I'm from the Northside of Dublin. I saw similar situations as I grew up. She did what she had to do for her son. I can understand that. Besides, it's not my place to judge. Though, I guess Mrs. Bird thought it was her place." He paused for a moment as Isobel nodded in assent. "May I ask what happened to her son? Only I know that he's about two years old and I don't hear a two year old boy anywhere?"

"Ethel decided to give him to Major Bryant's parents, feeling it was the best choice for his future. Mr. Bryant stipulated that there be no contact between her and Charlie. As she was only working as a prostitute to keep him clothed and fed, Ethel left that line of work and I gave her a job."

"I'm sorry to hear that she gave her son up. I understand what she was thinking, though I feel bad for that poor boy being raised by that man. It explains how the Major turned out the way he did."

"Indeed. Now, go upstairs and clean up. Remember, little Miss Branson doesn't like your stubble."

Chuckling, Tom turned and climbed the stairs, quickly finding Matthew's old bedroom. He quickly moved to the en suite bathroom, shut the door, and started the bath. While the hot water streamed into the tub, Tom removed his clothing, leaving on only his underwear as he went to grab a chair that was by the window and move it next to the bathtub. Next, he grabbed a towel, washcloth, and a bar of soap, placing them onto the chair. Seeing that the tub had just the right amount of water in it, Tom turned off the pipes. He quickly discarded his underwear and threw it on top of the clothing pile, before sinking into the hot water.

At the same time downstairs, Isobel entered the kitchen, finding Ethel sitting at the kitchen table. As soon as she saw the older woman enter the room, Ethel popped up.

"Good Morning, ma'am."

"Good morning, Ethel. Tom Branson just arrived from the hospital. He's upstairs cleaning up. I was wondering if you knew how to make eggs, bacon, or sausage. He hasn't had anything to eat since luncheon yesterday, and if I recall correctly from Sybil's letters, he can have a hearty appetite. I can make a pot of coffee for him."

"I'm not much of a cook, but I can make eggs, bacon, and sausage. Would he like toast as well?"

"Yes." She paused for a moment. "I hope you don't mind, but I told Tom about your situation."

Ethel looked down and asked a question. "And what did he say?"

"You have no need to worry, Ethel. The only judgmental words that he spoke were directed toward Major Bryant and his father. He apparently saw similar situations growing up."

The young woman smiled. "Mr. Branson was always nice when I worked at the house. He often kept to himself, but he was kind. So was Lady Sybil. How is she? And the baby?"

"According to Tom, they're both fine. Though his daughter is very much opposed to her father kissing her with stubble on his face. He was ordered out so mother and daughter could spend some time together."

"Does she have a name?"

Isobel began to laugh. "I completely forgot to ask."

Ethel began laughing at that as well. "Then we should ask Mr. Branson over breakfast."

"I agree. I don't expect him down for at least twenty minutes, so we've got some time."

With that, the two women went about making breakfast.

Back upstairs, Tom had just finished with his bath and was now building a lather in Matthew's old shaving cup. Once the lather was just how he liked it, Tom quickly applied it and carefully began to shave, taking care not to go too quickly, especially since he hadn't slept much the night before. As he shaved, he thought back to when he was a boy and how he would watch his father Francis shave on Sunday mornings before heading to church. It was their Sunday ritual, one which only stopped upon Francis Branson's death when Tom was thirteen. Since his death, Tom had thought of his father often, but more so in the last eighteen months. He couldn't help wondering what his father would have thought of Sybil and if he was proud of him. Today though, he wondered what his father would've thought of Maggie. Then an image of his father holding Maggie and fawning over her popped into his head, causing him to stop shaving as he collected himself.

While most men would be upset about having a daughter, Tom was thrilled. Of his siblings, he always got along better with his older sisters than his older brothers, especially his brother Kieran. _And_, he thought, _after yesterday and the possibility that I could lose both Sybil and Maggie, I really don't care whether we have any more children. Maggie's more than I deserve._

Tom resumed shaving and finished a few minutes later. He quickly cleaned up the bathroom, before he moved into the bedroom to dress. Ten minutes later, Tom headed downstairs.

As he reached the bottom step, the smell of fresh coffee and bacon assaulted his senses. He took a deep breath, savoring the aroma. In response, his stomach let out a loud grumble, causing Tom to chuckle. _I guess Mrs. Crawley was right about needing to eat._

He stepped down from the landing, turned right, and froze. Tom had no clue where the kitchen and dining room were. He had been in the house, and the kitchen specifically, when he was the family's chauffeur, but he had entered from the servant's entrance which led directly to the kitchen. Thankfully he was saved by Isobel coming out of one of the rooms.

"Oh there you are Tom. I was about to go up and check on you."

Tom let out a breath. "I fell asleep for a few minutes after I got into the bath. Then, when I was shaving, I was thinking over some things."

"Like what, if you don't mind my asking."

"Not at all. I was thinking about my father. He died when I was a thirteen, and I was wondering what he would think of Sybil and the baby."

Isobel nodded her head. "I'm sure he would have loved Sybil and would have adored his granddaughter."

"That's what my Ma said about Sybil after knowing her for three months. She couldn't believe that Sybil was an aristocrat after getting to know her."

"I sometimes forget that as well." She paused hearing a noise, and grinned when she realized it was Tom's stomach growling. "I think we need to get you fed. Ethel and I have made coffee, bacon, and sausages. We were waiting for you to come down to find out how you like your eggs and toast."

"Scrambled eggs will be fine and I usually lightly toast bread. But you didn't have to go through all of this trouble for me."

"It wasn't any trouble at all. Now, follow me into the kitchen. I thought it would be easier to eat in there." She then turned and walked down the hall, and Tom started to follow her. Soon they were in the kitchen and Isobel ushered him into a chair. Ethel came in from the pantry just after they arrived in the kitchen.

The young woman smiled at Tom. "Congratulations, Mr. Branson. I'm glad to hear that both Lady Sybil and your daughter are doing well."

"Thank you, Ethel."

"How would you like your eggs, Mr. Branson?"

Before Tom could speak, Isobel answered. "Scrambled. I'll make the toast and you can make the eggs."

Ethel nodded in response and both women went to work. Tom sat watching for a few minutes when he got the urge to get up and help. He quickly saw that the two women had everything under control and decided to stay out of the way. As he waited, Tom's thoughts drifted back to Sybil and Maggie in the hospital. When he left, Maggie was in his wife's arms and falling back asleep. He noticed that his daughter liked to be held and would snuggle closer to both Sybil and himself. Tom also observed how music calmed his daughter. _I'm going to have to write Ma and ask her what she sang to us when we babies..._

Tom was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize a cup of hot coffee and a plate filled with eggs, bacon, and sausage had been placed in front of him.

"Tom?" asked Isobel.

Coming out of his thoughts, he looked around and noticed the plate and cup. "I'm sorry. My mind drifted off. This looks delicious. Thank you both so much for this. Won't you both please sit down? I prefer not to eat by myself."

Ethel looked at Isobel for permission and she nodded her head. Both women poured themselves some coffee and sat down with Tom while he ate. Slowly, the three of them began to talk, eventually conversing easily. After about ten minutes, the question on both women's minds was asked.

"Have you chosen a name for your daughter yet?" asked Isobel.

Ethel looked up into Tom's face, eager to hear the answer.

"We have, but we're waiting until the family comes by later today to announce it. Though I will say that I think the Dowager will not like it."

"Then, it must be a good name," quipped Isobel.

The three of them chuckled. After a second helping of bacon and sausages, not to mention a second much needed cup of coffee, Tom was ready to return to the hospital and his family.

Standing up, he addressed both women. "Thank you for your kindness this morning." Tom then gave a nod to each woman and exited the house via the servant's entrance.

As Tom walked back to the hospital, he passed in front of Old Mr. Moseley's cottage. Mr. Moseley was outside, tending to his roses. He waved and greeted the young man.

"Hello Mr. Branson. I heard Lady Sybil is in the hospital. How is she? And the baby?"

Tom's face lit up at the mention of his wife and child. "She's much better. There was a complication, but she and the baby are wonderful."

Mr. Moseley smiled. "Boy or girl?"

"A beautiful baby girl who already has me wrapped around her little finger."

"Congratulations, Mr. Branson." He paused for a moment, smiling. "I remember when Lady Sybil was a little girl. Marched to her own drum even then. When she and her sisters would visit the Dowager Countess or come into the village with their governess, Lady Sybil would always escape and go exploring. Her exact words. We often found her hiding in the rose bushes. My late wife adored her. She would always make sure that we had biscuits in the house in case Lady Sybil stopped by. Most of the people around here feel the same way about her. I'm glad that she's recovering."

"Thank you, Mr. Moseley. For both your well wishes and for telling me about Sybil."

"Are you returning to the hospital?"

"Yes. I only left on my wife's orders. She wanted some special time with the baby and for me to get a bite to eat, amongst other things."

Mr. Moseley smiled, nodding his head. "Mr. Branson, can you give Lady Sybil and little Miss Branson my well wishes?" he asked.

"I will. Thank you."

"And I want to give them something." He looked down at his rose bush, and taking his shears, he quickly snipped at it. Looking back up, Mr. Moseley handed Tom two white roses. "And can you give these to them? One white rose for each."

Tom was touched by the gesture. "Thank you Mr. Moseley. I will. And I'll make sure my daughter knows you gave her her first gift."

The two men shook hands and parted.

Five minutes later, Tom arrived back at the hospital. He greeted the nurses and made a beeline for his wife's room. The door was slightly ajar, allowing Tom to hear Sybil singing to Maggie. He stood outside the door, listening to his wife's beautiful and husky voice.

_Hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight,_

_Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;_

_The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see,_

_They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee._

_Hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight,_

_Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;_

_The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see,_

_They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee._

Looking up, Sybil saw her husband standing at the door. She smiled at Tom and beckoned him in.

"I told you that you have a beautiful voice."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, darling."

"I'm truthfully telling you Sybil, you have a beautiful voice. If you didn't, our daughter would let you know. She made it quite clear this morning what she thought of my stubble."

Laughing, Sybil noticed the flowers in Tom's hands. "I see you come bearing gifts."

Tom beamed. "I do, but they're not from me. They're from Old Mr. Moseley. One for each of the Branson ladies. He also sends his well wishes to you both."

He placed the flowers on the table in the corner and then walked to the chair next to Sybil's bed, sitting down to watch her and Maggie.

"I wish you wouldn't call him Old Mr. Moseley."

"I only call him that when I'm trying to make clear which Mr. Moseley I'm talking about."

Sybil gave him a look asking _Is that the best you could do?_

"Fine. The Elder Mr. Moseley gave me the flowers to give to you two and sent his well wishes." He stopped for a moment, remembering the story he told Tom about Sybil as a child. "He also told me about how when you were a child visiting your grandmother or in the village with your governess, you would escape and go exploring, usually hiding in his rose bushes." He stopped for a moment to gauge Sybil's reaction and was rewarded by seeing her cheeks flush. "Apparently, you're his favorite Crawley sister, as well as the favorite of several of the people in the village. His wife always made sure to have biscuits in the house in case you stopped by."

Her cheeks now a dark shade of pink, Sybil said, "I can't believe he told you that."

"Why? I loved it! I thought it was adorable. Now I know to watch Maggie to make sure she doesn't go running off."

"You just said you thought my running off was adorable. Why is Maggie not allowed?"

"Because you're my wife and she's my daughter."

Sybil laughed. "Next you're going to tell me that she's not allowed to talk to boys until she's twenty."

"I was thinking thirty." He paused for a moment. "I know I sound ridiculous, but I can't help being protective of her after yesterday. Or you for that matter."

"Tom," she softly said, "we're both fine."

"I don't consider having an operation being fine, love. And you heard Dr. Clarkson last night. You could still get an infection. If something had…were…Sybil, that would completely shatter my heart."

Tom gripped her hand and fought back tears. Sybil just held his hand, knowing there wasn't much she could say right now that would comfort her husband.

After several minutes, she decided to change the topic. "I thought you would have been back sooner."

He snorted, though there were still some tears. "I thought so as well, but Isobel insisted that I have more than a couple of slices of toast for breakfast. My stomach agreed. I was fussed over by her and her new cook/maid. Eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast. And two cups of coffee."

Sybil gave Tom a questioning look. "New cook? What happened to Mrs. Bird?"

He hesitated for a moment. He knew Sybil wouldn't judge Ethel, but he didn't want to get her riled up about the injustice of Ethel's situation. However, they never kept anything from each other.

"Do you remember Ethel?"

"Yes. How could I forget?"

"Ethel was working in York's red-light district to take care of her son. However, she decided to give him to the Bryants to raise. As he was the only reason she was in that line of work, she left it. Isobel hired her, but Mrs. Bird refused to work with her, and made it an either or situation. And Isobel chose Ethel."

"Good for her. I'll have to thank both Cousin Isobel and Ethel for making a decent breakfast for you." She stopped, realizing something. "We shouldn't mention Ethel working for Cousin Isobel in front of papa. He'll explode-"

"-and the last thing we need is for him to upset you or Maggie, which I made clear to your mother last night."

Sybil looked at her husband, her brow furrowed with worry. "How did she take that?"

"She agreed with me."

Sybil's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"Your father is not in your mother's good graces at the moment. Even after the successful surgery, your father still thought the caesarian was a mistake."

She opened her mouth and closed it three times, unsure of how to respond. Finally, Sybil said, "You and papa didn't get into a fight yesterday, did you?"

"I haven't spoken to your father since the library yesterday afternoon. Your mother told me this after you came out of the operating room. I had the nurse bring her here so she could see you for herself." He gave a small smile. "We actually got on quite well last night. She understood why I didn't want any of the family to see the baby before you did."

"She really understood?"

"Don't be too surprised. She's a mother and she told me she would feel the same way." He chuckled again. "She also told me to call her Cora."

Sybil's eyes welled up. She was overwhelmed by her emotions as they came crashing down on her. Her mother understanding the need to meet her daughter before the rest of the family, her acceptance of Tom as her husband, and her mother openly defying her father.

Tom was concerned by her tears and silence. "What's wrong, love?

She waved her hand. "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong. I'm just…speechless."

Tom was about to say something when Dr. Clarkson and a nurse entered the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Branson, Mrs. Branson. How are you this morning?"

"Quite sore," answered Sybil.

"That is to be expected," the doctor said. "I'm going to examine you and check on your overall health. Then, I will need to examine the incision. Once that is done, Nurse James will give you a sponge bath. If I am satisfied with the state of your health after my examination, I will call your family and arrange a time for them to visit this afternoon."

Tom took the baby from Sybil as Dr. Clarkson began his examination. Once he had checked her heart, lungs, blood pressure and temperature, he told them his findings.

"I still need to examine the incision, but from my examination, I believe you're on the road to recovery. Your blood pressure, though still above normal, is much improved from yesterday. Most importantly, you do not have a fever, which could indicate infection. Now, I will need to examine the incision. Mr. Branson, I will need you to leave the room while I do this."

Tom nodded, handed a now sleeping Maggie to the nurse, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. For the next several minutes, he paced back and forth in front of the door, waiting for Dr. Clarkson to emerge from the room. Eventually, the doctor did leave.

"How is she?"

Dr. Clarkson gave Tom a kind smile. "She's doing very well, Mr. Branson. The nurse is getting ready to give her a sponge bath and change her dressing. Once she is finished, you can rejoin your family."

Tom nodded. He thought about how much he owed Dr. Clarkson. Without him, he might not have his family right now. Then Tom realized he had no money to pay for Sybil's medical care. He needed to speak to Dr. Clarkson about this now.

"Dr. Clarkson, I was wondering if we could talk briefly. In private."

Concerned, the doctor said, "Of course." He then led the young man to his office and directed him to a chair.

"What do you need to talk to me about, Mr. Branson?"

Tom fidgeted a bit. He hated not being able to pay. He had a solution, but he wasn't sure if Dr. Clarkson would agree to it.

"First, thank you for everything you've done for Sybil and the baby. Without you and Mrs. Crawley, I might not have my family right now."

Dr. Clarkson smiled warmly at Tom. "You're welcome, Mr. Branson. Though I couldn't stand by and let anything happen to Mrs. Branson and your daughter. 'Do no harm' is part of my code."

"Still, I'm grateful to you." He took a deep breath. "I also need to discuss with you paying for Sybil's operation and medical care."

Dr. Clarkson, unsure of where Tom was going, nodded his head for him to continue.

"As you more likely know, I don't have a job at the moment and I don't have the ability to pay you."

The doctor interjected. "I know the gossip I heard, but yes, I do know you are unemployed. I assumed that His Lordship would pay."

"He probably expects to pay as well," Tom said. "However, I would like to pay it. I thought I could work off my debt to you until it's paid or until I have a paying job. Then, I hoped we could arrange monthly payments."

Dr. Clarkson thought over Tom's proposal for a few minutes. Everyone in the County knew that Mr. Branson and Lord Grantham did not get along, and that was being generous.

"May I ask why you insist on working off your debt instead of using Lord Grantham's money?"

"Yes. The decision to have the caesarian was mine and Sybil's. My father-in-law didn't want to listen to you, and even after everything, still insisted that the operation wasn't necessary. And I'm a proud man. Some might say that I shouldn't be, that I should be grateful for any help I receive from my in-laws, and I am. However, I was also raised to pay my own way. I need to pay you back myself."

The older man nodded, understanding Tom and his thinking. "How do you propose to work off your debt?"

Tom smiled. "Not to boast, but I am good with my hands. If there is anything here or at your cottage that needs to be repaired, I can do it. Also, I can provide free maintenance on the hospital's ambulance. I think we all know I can fix a car."

Dr. Clarkson smiled. He had to give credit to the young man sitting before him. He didn't want to use his in-laws' money, but insisting on working off the debt himself. _And still people in the county think he only married Sybil for her money. I never believed that and here he sits proving me right._ Not to mention that he could joke about formerly being a chauffeur. He knew what his decision was.

"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Branson."

The two men shook hands, sealing their agreement.

However, before they could part, something occurred to Dr. Clarkson.

"Tom, what should I do if His Lordship inquires about paying?"

Tom thought this over for the moment. "I'm not sure. Do you think you could stall him? I would tell him myself, but he wouldn't understand."

"Perhaps you should ask Mr. Crawley for help with this matter."

"Good idea. Again, thank you so much."

Tom left the office and headed back to Sybil's room.

It was shortly before half past one in the afternoon when the Crawleys arrived at the hospital – Isobel arriving on foot, while the rest of the family were piled into Matthew's Roadster and the Rolls Royce. Dr. Clarkson was there to greet them.

"Good afternoon your Lordship and your Ladyship. You will be able to see your daughter and granddaughter shortly. Your granddaughter woke up hungry about fifteen minutes ago and Mrs. Branson-"

"-_Lady Sybil_, you mean," interrupted Robert, the ire evident in his voice.

"No, I mean Mrs. Branson. She told me that was what I should call her." Ignoring the look the earl was giving him, he picked up from where he was interrupted. "Mrs. Branson is feeding her. They both should be ready to see you shortly. A nurse will come and get you then. I'm limiting today's visit to a half hour. Mrs. Branson is still recovering from her operation and little Miss Branson, like all newborns, is a bit demanding. If she continues to improve, they both should be able to leave the hospital in two weeks. I have to go on my rounds. Enjoy your visit."

The good doctor then left to go on his rounds. The Crawleys were left in the waiting area. Violet and Isobel sat down on two of the chairs and began to chat while Mary, Matthew, and Edith were huddled together in a corner talking animatedly. Robert and Cora remained standing, the tension between them so thick it could be cut with a knife. Soon, Robert began pacing and mumbling under his breath. After a few minutes of this, Cora snapped at him.

"What is wrong now, Robert?"

The Earl stopped in his tracks and turned towards his wife, while the rest of the family turned their attention toward the bickering couple. "Mrs. Branson. It's not proper."

"That's what you're choosing to focus on. That our daughter has chosen not to use her title."

"He probably forced her to not use it."

Mary and Edith laughed loudly at their father's words. He turned towards them with a thunderous expression.

"What is so funny about what I said?"

Mary decided she would be the one to answer their father. "I'm sorry, papa, but when has Sybil ever let anyone tell her what to do. You should know better than anyone else that Sybil does what she wants."

Cora's patience with her husband was at the end of its tether. "Robert, I'm warning you not to upset Sybil when we go in to see her. Tom said he won't prevent you from seeing Sybil or our granddaughter, but he will tell you to leave if you upset her, and he has my full support."

Her husband stood there in shock. He was completely speechless. She decided to completely upend his world before he regained his composure.

"Since that is the case, I'm letting you know before you go into that room that I told Tom he could call me Cora." She saw Robert was going to interrupt with his own opinion. "I don't want to hear it, Robert. He is our son-in-law. Expecting him to call me Lady Grantham all the time was ridiculous. He and Sybil are married, and now they have a baby. I've accepted it, as has everyone else but you."

Violet, who had been watching the exchange, decided it was time to change the subject. "I wonder if they've named the baby yet."

Isobel perked up at Violet's statement. "Tom told me over breakfast that they have named the baby, but he wouldn't reveal the name. They were waiting for everyone to be together to announce it."

"Did he give any clue as to what it was?" asked Violet.

Isobel instantly decided not to tell the Dowager that Tom didn't think she would like the name. "No. He did mention his father to me, but I don't know what his name was and if it has a feminine version."

"It was Francis," said Matthew. "He told me that it was a name they were considering if they had a boy. I don't remember him saying they were considering it for a girl."

"Sybil did mention that they were considering Kathleen after Tom's mother," interjected Edith. "She also told me they both were opposed to Patrick or Patricia anywhere in the name."

"Were they not contemplating any Crawley family names?"

"We don't know granny. Sybil only revealed a few names on their list," responded Mary.

"Roberta is a nice name," Violet stated.

Cora couldn't help responding to Violet's statement. "I doubt that's a name they actually considered."

There was some tittering at Cora's response, which quickly died down when a nurse approached.

"Your Lordship, your Ladyship, I'm sorry you had to wait so long. There were some feeding issues with the baby, but that's to be expected at this stage. Please follow me."

The nurse turned and began walking down the corridor, quickly followed by the Crawleys. When they were outside Sybil's room, the nurse stopped and looked at the group.

"We usually don't allow such big groups in, but we made an exception for you. I will come by in half an hour to usher you out. Enjoy meeting your newest family member."

"Thank you," said Cora.

The nurse opened the door and let the family through. As they entered, Cora was met by a beautiful site: Sybil holding her daughter as Tom sat next to her holding her hand, both too absorbed in their child to notice their guests. They were broken from their reverie by the sound of the Dowager's walking stick banging on the floor.

"Good. We've got your attention."

Tom bolted up from his seat while Sybil rolled her eyes and said, "Hello, granny."

Acknowledging the Dowager, Tom offered her his seat. As she got settled, Sybil turned to her mother and broke into a smile. "Hello, mama. Would you like to meet your granddaughter?"

Cora nodded and walked over to Sybil's bed. She bent down a little as her youngest handed the little bundle over to her. Looking down at her sleeping granddaughter for the first time, Cora was brought to tears.

"Oh, she's so beautiful."

"Tom thinks she looks like me. I think it's still too early to tell."

"Well, she does have your lips, Sybil." She looked at her daughter, and gave her a smile. "But you're right that it's still too early to tell."

Cora gazed at her granddaughter for several minutes, rocking her gently. She desperately wanted to know her name.

"What did you two agree to name her?"

Sybil beamed and looked directly at Isobel. "Margaret Isobel Branson."

Everyone turned toward Isobel, who was visibly surprised at the news.

Tom answered the question lingering in the air. "We wanted to honor you for all you did for us. If you hadn't come to us and told us what was going on, we might not be celebrating today."

"Thank you," Isobel whispered. "I'm-I'm…speechless!"

The family laughed, though they were all wondering why Margaret was chosen as the baby's first name. It was Mary who decided to ask.

"Darling, I don't remember you mentioning Margaret when you told me some of the names you were thinking about. Was it on the list?"

"No, it wasn't. We went through our list of names quickly, but none of them suited her. It was Tom who thought of Margaret. Though I should let you know that we will be calling her Maggie."

"Why Margaret?" asked Cora.

Tom lightly blushed, nervous about how the family, especially Sybil's father, would react to the reason behind the name. Isobel noticed and remembered their conversation from yesterday. She smiled when she realized who Maggie was named after.

"As most of you know, I was praying the whole time while waiting yesterday. Obviously, I prayed to God, but I also prayed to St. Margaret of Antioch. She's the patron saint of women in childbirth and I thought who better to call on. When we eliminated the names on our list, I thought of Margaret as a way to say thank you."

Cora spoke before Robert could say anything. "I think that's a lovely reason, Tom. The name also suits my granddaughter." Turning to her husband, "Robert, come here and hold your granddaughter."

Robert obeyed his wife and went towards his wife. She gave him the little bundle in her arms and held her breath. While she believed her husband would love his granddaughter no matter what, there was still a tiny part of her that was worried.

Thankfully, Robert's reaction to his first grandchild was one of absolute adoration. He was fawning over her and smiling so broadly, Tom briefly wondered what came over him. Then he remembered a conversation they had with his mother after they returned from Mary's wedding. _"No matter what he thinks of you or your marriage, he will absolutely adore his grandchild and spoil him or her to the fullest."_

After holding her for a bit, Robert passed Maggie to Isobel, who was quite taken with her namesake. She soon turned the child over to her Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew, who both delighted in the child.

All through being passed around, Maggie slept on. However, when she was handed to her Aunt Edith, she opened her eyes and looked right at her aunt. Edith was stunned by the eyes looking back at her.

"Oh, Tom! She has your eyes!"

"Are you sure?" asked Robert.

"Yes. I saw them enough when he was teaching me to drive."

Violet was the final family member to hold the baby. Like everyone else, she was absolutely taken with the child. After looking at her for a few minutes, and being graced with a look from her great-granddaughter, Violet gave the final review of the newest family member. "She is very beautiful. And Edith is right. She does have Tom's eyes. Congratulations to both of you."

Shortly thereafter, the nurse came to tell the Crawleys it was time to leave. They all left, except Cora, who stayed behind to give Sybil a hug and tell her that she would be back tomorrow morning.

Once she left, Tom, Sybil, and Maggie settled in together, enjoying their little family.


End file.
